Nightengale
by Nothing You Can Prove
Summary: In one timeline, she'd returned home to complete her photography degree, not realizing the horrible futures she was about to live. In another, the horror came much sooner. And she was stronger because of it. Now, Max Caulfield has changed, and she's on a mission.
1. Cold Open

**Hey guys, myself and Tyler are back with another fic. This one is of lower priority for us right now, but we wanted to get it started to see how it faired. This is a crossover with the DC universe, mostly the part related to Batman. While it'd be too impractical to include all the possible part of the universe, potential future instalments might include some familiar faces.**

 **Anyway, without further ado let's start this.**

* * *

 **Prologue: Cold Open**

 ** _O'Death, O'Death, won't you spare me over 'til another year..._**

 _Gotham City was unlike any other place on earth. In most cases, this would be a ringing endorsement, or an advertisement for tourists… in this particular case however it was nothing but the cold, hard truth. Gotham City was a sprawling city scape, Skyscrapers overshadowing the more destitute ground level slums. The city wasn't what it appeared to be at first glance, and instead of the well-to-do businesses and blue-collar work ethics of Metropolis or Star City, Gotham's people lived side by side with criminals and the mob, along with assorted corrupt politicians and officeholders who had ruled Gotham for generations._

 _Then, the Batman came along, and started slowly inspiring a wave of change… but not all of that change was good. When Batman came, the nature of crime changed as well criminals becoming more dangerous, more desperate, and more vicious. As one young woman was about to learn, just because Batman was in the town, did not mean crime and destruction halted…_

 _James Gordon sighed tiredly, leafing through the scrawled notes he had on the young girl laying unconscious on a bed just a few feet from where he was stood, "Maxine Vanessa Caulfield," he read off in a soft yet clear voice, shaking his head slightly as his eyes scanned over the saddening details he had access to, "fourteen years old, born in Arcadia Bay Oregon. Has been in Gotham for a little over a year…"_

 _He looked into the window of the hospital room, giving the girl a long look before taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. She was small, easily below five and a half feet and thin, but not unhealthily so. Her face was pale and even in her sleep she seemed terrified and uneasy, tossing and turning as much as the IV would allow. While she was in a much better state than when she'd been brought in, she still looked like death warmed up. Whichever way he looked at it, this young girl had experienced much more than she ever should have physically, mentally and emotionally especially at such a young age, but at least she was still alive which could be seen as a miracle in itself. Mind you, some would argue living after experiencing that much trauma and loss was worse than simple death. At the very least, it would change her and probably not for the better._

 _She had been in and out of consciousness for the past couple of days. When she had been awake, she hadn't said much at all to anyone. He'd tried to gently question her, as had some of the doctors, but she hadn't been in any shape to answer them and even if she had been, she probably wouldn't be able to give them the information they wanted anyway. In fact, the most he'd gotten out of her in his last visit was a brief hopeless and heartbreaking glance before she'd turned her attention back to the window overlooking the bustling city streets. He wanted to help her somehow, but knew that there was little he could do until Max herself wanted it. Regardless of what had happened exactly, they now had to deal with the aftermath as best they could._

 _He was vaguely proud of himself when he hardly reacted to the presence that seemed to form from the shadows of the hallway behind him, "How is she?" the gruff baritone asked, and the man's ominous shadowy form settling next to him._

 _Gordon allowed himself to glance over at his mysterious companion, "She'll live," he answered with a slight frown, "She's been through a lot. She's taken at least four broken ribs, a severe concussion, a serious bone fracture in her arm..." he leafed through a few of the pages again outlining her medical stats from the past couple of days along with notes on her general mental state and other details they'd managed to piece together, "Doctors recommend getting her professional help but she refused. Says she doesn't trust the therapists in this city. Or in general," he returned the notes before turning back to the man who had saved her, Gotham City's own personal hero, "I can't say I blame her."_

" _I should've gotten there sooner," the Bat murmured, the eerie glow of his eyes examining the broken girl, "I could've stopped them."_

" _You can't be everywhere at once," Gordon reminded him, "As good as you are, you're only one man."_

 _Nobody could deny the influence Batman had over the safety of Gotham City and all those residing in it. He'd stopped countless, often life-threatening, threats dead in their tracks and worked tirelessly to clean up the streets of some of the deadliest villains this world had to offer, the worst of whom being the Joker, a highly deranged lunatic intent on causing endless chaos and therefore made him Batman's arch-nemesis. If anything happened in Gotham, it was safe to assume that the Joker was involved in some way or another and that was never a good sign. He wouldn't hesitate to murder hundreds of innocent people just because he could._

 _The Batman was quiet for a long while, examining Caulfield with an unwavering gaze, "She faces a dark path. She wasn't brought to this city voluntarily, and now she's trapped here," he regarded Gordon with a sideways glance, "Do right by her Jim," and he turned away, "I'll contact you as soon as I have something," with that, the Batman melted into the shadows and disappeared into the night._

" _I'll try my best. I always do," Gordon whispered into the silence as his eyes fell back to the hospital bed._

* * *

 **Five Years Later…**

The sound of a motor was heard as a motorcycle sped down the highway, the driver enjoying the feeling of the wind lapping at her skin. At this time of night, the streets were much clearer so removing the restriction on the speed the bike could reach. With the slight ghost of a smirk, the driver revved the motorcycle, adrenaline rushing through her body as she raced off down the now empty road to her destination.

The only light she had to go by was the one on the front of the bike and that of the moon dimly shining down from the midnight blue sky. There never had been many streetlights around here, not leading up to such a small town. It didn't matter to her though, it was all the light she needed. She felt the bike jolt a bit as the wheel ran over a small dip in the ill-maintained road, but she soon got it back under control.

As the town came into view she pulled on the handlebars and slid neatly to a stop on the side of the road, taking her helmet off and revealing brown hair and crystalline blue eyes, _Arcadia Bay…_ she mused, regarding the town from on high, _it's hardly changed._

Time almost seemed to stand still in towns like Arcadia Bay, not like the high-octane city of Gotham, where time never seemed to move slowly enough. She kicked the bike to life, enjoying the purr of the engine as she put the helmet back on, and ensured her duffle bag was secure. She pulled away from the curb and back onto the highway, _It's been such a long time since I've been here… time to get the lay of the land._

A feeling of immense nostalgia washed over her the closer she got to the town she'd grown up in. No matter where she went or how long she stayed away for, deep down Arcadia would always feel like home, somewhere she could put down her roots. Everyone needed a place like that, her more so than anyone. There was a slight flicker of confliction in her mind however. It felt as strange to be back as it did comforting. So much had changed since she left, her most of all. Dragging up the past was always a sensitive issue, especially when you had been through so much as she had. Being back was bittersweet, a reminder of the life she could no longer lead.

She shook her head lightly, pushing back on these thoughts as the familiar dense forest became visible. She had to admit, she'd missed the nature of Arcadia. While Gotham had its moments of beauty, when the city fell silent apart from the gentle hum of the odd passing car and the lights all blurred into one against the dark backdrop night brought, it didn't quite measure up to witnessing the sun slowly disappear below the horizon while stood at the cliff's edge staring out over the calm ocean or sitting down at the shoreline, cool water lapping at bare feet, a warm breeze ruffling hair as it hit the golden hour with fingers idly traced patterns in the sand. It really was a completely different, almost contrasting, atmosphere to the one she had become accustomed to over the past few years and a welcomed change in a way.

She slowed a little, guiding the bike along the narrow twisting roads she knew almost like the back of her hand as she approached the main concentration of buildings in the sleepy town. She could potentially spend weeks re-exploring her childhood home if she let herself. She didn't plan to stay here for too long, this was merely a brief pit-stop on a longer journey. She couldn't afford to get caught up and lost in the memories attached to this place. It was dangerous, last time she'd lapsed it'd nearly cost her life.

After a couple of minutes, she pulled into a small parking lot beside an extremely familiar building, one she had frequented as a kid. The Two Whales Diner -like the rest of the town- had hardly changed over the last years, simply looking more run down than before. Max suspected that the inside would pretty much be the same story. She gave a fond smile as she smelled the food cooking and pulled the helmet off her head before chaining her bag to her motorcycle and turning off the engine.

Her stomach grumbled in anticipation as she sorted herself out. In all the time she had been away, she had yet to find a diner that served food as delicious as at the Two Whales and she'd tried. Once ready, she slowly made her way over to the door leading into the diner. It must be coming up to closing time, but she figured that she'd left enough to grab a drink and a quick bite to eat. Under the strict diet and exercise regime she'd been sticking to over the past few years, she hadn't been to many diners like the Two Whales, since all they really served was greasy trucker food and desserts. It was almost crazy to think how much every single part of her daily life had changed in such a short space of time. She was essentially a completely different person now, running to tight schedules and training her ass off to maintain the level of fitness required, not to mention no longer living off junk food which had been a major staple before.

She strode out of the parking lot and made a sharp left, approaching the small set of stairs leading up to the door into the diner, a path she had taken so many times as a kid that she could probably do it with her eyes closed. As she reached the top, she pushed on the door and was immediately hit with an overpowering scent that sent her stomach grumbling into overdrive. The interior of the diner hadn't changed a bit apart from a few different leaflets and posters dotted around, with everything in the exact same position from the booths lining the wall nearest the door down to the retro jukebox in the far right hand corner.

There weren't many people here at this time of night, most people were at home with their families. So the only people at the Two Whales were people like her, travelers or drifters. She spotted a familiar head of dirty blond hair behind the counter, and allowed a sad smile to grace her features. She turned, and found the booth that sat in the corner of the building and put her back to the window, keeping the entrance in sight. That is one of the important things she'd learned over the years, always prepare at least two escape routes, more if possible, just in case. She knew of at least two conventional exits, the front door and the one leading through a storage room out into the side alley. She could also smash a window if required, though that wasn't ideal given the mess, noise and potential risk of injury. After scanning the area to remind herself of the layout and to check for any obvious inconsistencies that could indicate trouble was on the horizon, coming up blank, she relaxed a fraction. With everything she'd seen and been told, she remained vigilant wherever she was. She could never afford to truly unwind.

She smiled as the familiar waitress walked around the counter toward her with a half full pot of black coffee and a mug, watching as the flicker of recognition grew strong in her eyes as she approached, "Now, here is a face I haven't seen in a while."

"Hi, Joyce," Max greeted Joyce as she poured out a steaming cup, pushing it over to her, "It's been a long time," she murmured, accepting the coffee easily.

"Much too long," Joyce added while standing up straight once more, "I was starting to think that you wouldn't ever stop by."

"You're not the only one," Max muttered under her breath as she took a sip of her coffee. She hummed slightly as the warmth raced down her throat. She enjoyed the quiet atmosphere that surrounded the diner at night, "I kept meaning to get back here at some point…"

Ever since she left Arcadia, time seemed to have run away from her, always just beyond her fingertips. Maybe it had been the change in pace, or the fact that so much had happened, either way it felt as if she was constantly playing catch-up. There were never enough hours in the day to get everything done and she rarely had time to just chill out on her own any more. When she did get one of those rare and fleeting moments, there was always something on her mind preventing her from completely relaxing.

"At least you made it now," Joyce pointed out, "I'm glad to see that you're safe. Maybe it's just my motherly instincts, but I did worry about you. You moved so suddenly and none of us really knew what was going on."

A slight pang of guilt entered the pit of Max's stomach. Even though the move hadn't been her choice, she didn't like the thought of making Joyce worry. While in Arcadia, Joyce had essentially been a second mom for her, "Trust me, I would have preferred to stay, but…" her voice faded into silence as she stared down at her half empty mug. There was no way she could tell Joyce what actually happened, or anyone else for that matter.

Joyce picked up on Max's sudden reluctance to speak, so changed the subject to break the tense atmosphere building up, "The important thing is that I got to see you again, even though I suspect it's only for a brief visit, right?"

"For now, yeah," Max admitted. While she would love to spend the time catching up with Joyce, she had other things that needed her attention first. Maybe one day she would be able to get things under control enough to come this way for longer… and maybe that was unrealistic optimism and wishful thinking talking.

"I figured as much," Joyce sighed, before shaking her head, "Oh look at me rambling here. I'm sure you didn't come to hear me go on like this. Let's sort you out with some food, shall we?"

As if on cue, Max's stomach grumbled angrily, the sound inspiring a soft chuckle from Joyce as she took the order and temporarily left Max alone with her thoughts. She took the time to really look over the diner, and not from a threat-scanning perspective. On closer inspection, she noticed the wear and tear that had resulted from time passing. A few of the booth seats had small rips on them, the tables lined with indentations scratched into the surface and the paint on the walls was beginning to peel and yellow, in desperate need of a new coat. Joyce soon returned with her order, a plate of eggs and bacon that she was probably going to regret eating later, but for now she would enjoy it.

She rubbed her hands together eagerly, inhaling the mouthwatering smell, "Thanks, Joyce. This is awesome."

"You're very welcome," Joyce mentioned with a smile, which soon faded to give way to a curious, if a little worried, look, "Tell me something, is that bike out there yours?"

Max pushed the food around her plate with her fork before replying, knowing that Joyce would probably freak out over it, "Sure is."

Joyce glanced over to the direction of the parking lot, "Well, well, you would be the very last person I would expect to own something like that. It seems more Chloe's scene nowadays."

On the mention of Chloe, Max winced involuntarily. She had been wanting to ask about her childhood best friend, but equally she'd been wanting to avoid the topic altogether, knowing that when it had been brought up, there would be no way to take it back, "The bike was a birthday gift," she answered reluctantly. It was true, Dick had surprised her on her 17th with the bike. He'd waved it off at the time saying it was easy to get.

"I forget that you are old enough to be driving one around. I can still picture you as a shy teen running around Arcadia playing pirates with Chloe," a fond smile formed on Joyce's face, one that was soon tinged with melancholy, "You know, at some point I think she might appreciate seeing you again. I understand that you are probably busy with... whatever it is you do now, but I think it would do her the world of good to see a friendly face and probably for you too."

It's not that she didn't want to see Chloe again, she did more than anything, but it just wasn't practical now. Chloe had an insatiable curiosity and would ask her so many questions she couldn't answer, not only that but it would put her in danger, something Max never wanted to happen. Still… she needed to set things straight between them if nothing else.

She lightly drummed the fingers on the side of the mug, thinking up a way to say this without sounding like a total asshole or giving anything away, "I would like that, but… I don't think it's possible right this minute," there was so much she had to prepare and do before she even considered making social calls, but she couldn't put it off forever.

"I had a feeling you would be saying that. Still, I had to try," Joyce softly mentioned.

Max looked up earnestly at her, "Seriously Joyce, I really do want to see her again. I'm just... not in a position to right now."

"I believe you, Max. It's just a shame."

Max shuffled in her seat, her foot gently tapping on the floor, "I really hate to ask you this Joyce, but do you think you can keep quiet about me being here just for now? Chloe will probably get some weird idea about try find me and… she won't be able to."

Joyce let out a small sigh, considering her options before nodding tiredly, "Only because it's you, Max. Just… try to see her when you can. That's all I ask."

Max nodded in response, "I will, Joyce. A chat with Chloe is long overdue. As soon as I can, I'll go see her. Promise."

"That's good enough for me," the once troubled expression on Joyce's face turned back to her usual cheerful one, if a little forced, "Anyway, I'll leave you to it now. Enjoy your meal and welcome back," Joyce made her way back to the counter and Max began to dig into her food.

As she polished off her meal she reached into her pocket and pulled out a fifty, "Thank you for the meal Joyce," Max smiled warmly "I'll probably come visit tomorrow or the day after," she stood, "Keep the change," before Joyce had the chance to protest, Max strode on out of the diner, quickly disappearing off into the night.

* * *

 **30 minutes later - 44 Cedar Avenue - Price House - Chloe's Bedroom**

Chloe lounged back on her bed as she stared up at the ceiling, inhaling the smoke deeply before passing the half-smoked joint back over to Rachel, who accepted it lethargically. They'd been lying here for about half an hour just chilling out, which was only really possible because David was off terrorizing Arcadia Bay's residents or however else he spent his time. So long as it wasn't her or Rachel she really couldn't care less.

The only problem with moments like these, when she started to relax and zone out, is that they didn't last long. Whenever she finally managed to get her head clear, something she hadn't thought about in a while always shot to the forefront of her mind and disrupted her momentary peace. On the agenda today was something she had been trying exceptionally hard, and for a time succeeding, to forget about, to be more accurate someone. She shuffled on the bed, trying to suppress the images that were brought to mind on recalling that particular person, bittersweet memories from her childhood. They were as painful to remember as they were happy, a reminder of how things could have been had certain events not transpired.

She was vaguely aware of the hand being extended in her direction, the joint lazily held between manicured fingers. She took it, brushing her fingers against Rachel's hand as she did, before bringing it to her lips and breathing in the smoke once more, then returning it to Rachel. This thankfully cleared her mind again, for a few more moments anyway before the images pushed back again. A youthful, pale freckled face materialized, a wide dorky grin fixed to it and soft doe-like blue eyes that sparkled with carefree joy… a face that belonged to her childhood best friend, Max Caulfield.

A little over six years ago now, Max just upped and left Arcadia. Her parents had decided on the move because they were hard up on cash and Arcadia just wasn't able to provide them with what they needed to stay. Being self-employed in a small ghost town like Arcadia Bay just wasn't possible. Instead, they headed for the big city in search of a market. The move had been a quick turnaround, with the Caulfield's existence in Arcadia completely gone within a week of making the decision and it really couldn't have come at a worse time as in that week Chloe's father had been involved in a car accident, leading to his death just two days before Max was scheduled to leave. The whole situation had been a mess and the two of them hadn't kept in contact after Max left.

Chloe had cycled through so many different thought patterns about Max's abandonment over the years, anger, betrayal, bitterness, resentment, self-consciousness, depression... and most of all an overwhelming desire to see her again despite everything. Max had been the one person apart from her parents she could turn to no matter what and feel as if she wasn't going to get judged or laughed at. She always listened and seemed to know exactly what to say or do to make things better. Losing that support at such a crucial time had really hit Chloe hard and she'd expressed her anger over it by acting out and rebelling at every given moment, certain events only exacerbating that behavior such as David becoming a permanent member of their family a mere few months after William's death.

She'd often wondered what Max was doing now, probably thriving at some fancy art school, following her dream to become a photographer and making something of herself, while she was laying here, a dropout pissing away her potential. She was stuck in a vicious cycle, doomed to a dismal fate where she'd probably end up drinking herself into a coma one day, or worse. Even with that knowledge, nothing seemed to change.

"Hey, Chloe," the voice brought her out of her trance-like state, "can you pass me the ashtray before I burn my fingers," Rachel held up the joint to demonstrate it was finished.

"Yeah sure," she reached over to her bedside table and grabbed the red ashtray, thrusting it in Rachel's direction, who quickly stubbed the remainder of the joint out leaving only dying out embers and faint wisps of smoke. Chloe placed the ashtray back on the table, repositioning herself on the bed with her hands behind her head. She'd have to remember to get rid of it before David got home, as he made it a habit of barging in uninvited and would bust her ass over it. The last thing he needed was more ammo against her. She let out a small sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that something would change and soon.

* * *

 **Hotel Lobby**

Max approached the front desk to check in. She'd only brought the basic essentials along with her, figuring that if she really needed anything she could just buy it, so she hardly had any luggage, just enough to fill a small duffel bag now slung over her shoulder. Once everything had been sorted out and she'd gotten the key to her room, she made her way up to her room on the second floor via the stairs since the elevator was out of order, not that she probably would have used it anyway. This place wasn't going to be winning any prizes for being the best hotel around, but she'd seen worse, much worse. When she'd reached the right floor, she strode down the painting lined hallway until she saw the door to her room. She fished the key out of her pocket, putting it in the lock and turning it with a slight click, before pushing on the handle and entering the room.

As expected, the room wasn't five-star quality, but had what she needed. The walls were painted a very dull shade of beige with a faded red carpet covering the floor. A door leading into a small bathroom sat just to her right on entering the room with off-white tiles, a sink with a mirror attached to the wall above it, a toilet in the far right hand corner directly opposite it and a shower tucked into the furthest left hand corner, a metal towel rail and shelf with an assortment of small bottles filled with shampoo and shower gels. In the main room, there was a double bed with red sheets pushed against the right hand side wall in the middle, a couple of wooden bedside tables either side with lamps, one of which didn't work, and on the left hand side table was a phone. Opposite the bed were a few chests of drawers, a small TV sat atop which only had access to a limit number of channels. In the left hand corner nearest the door was a closet set in the wall, only containing a few coat hangers and it would probably stay that way for as long as Max stayed here.

After having a quick explore, she dumped her bag on the bed, causing it to dip slightly from the added weight accompanied by the squeak of the bed springs. It surprised her how heavy the bag felt considering how little she'd packed, mostly just some clothes for the next few days and money, not that it was any struggle for her. There were other things she needed such as her costume, which had been too bulky to transport on her bike, but had figured she could get them flown in using the Batwing when she got here. Which reminded her… she took a small metal device from the bottom of the bag, hidden under the clothes, and set in her co-ordinates.

She smiled as, like clockwork, her phone rang, "Gordon," she answered with a smirk.

"I see you've called in the Batwing, Miss Caulfield," Alfred Pennyworth said, his accent as apparent as ever, "I seem to recall nothing of interest in Arcadia Bay. What have you found that warrants investigation?" the British butler asked.

"A lead." She answered, shrugging noncommittally as she took off her riding jacket and tossed it on the bed. "It's not a big case… it's more… for me personally."

The butler went quiet for a few moments, "I see. Miss Caulfield, a warning if I may?"

"Of course, Alfred."

"Master Bruce spent the better part of five years hunting for his parent's killer," he revealed, his voice subdued, "Do not waste your life like he has."

"I don't intend to Alfred," Max said quietly, knowing that Bruce's family was a touchy subject, "This shouldn't take me more than a couple of weeks."

"I hope you are right Miss," Alfred murmured, "Batwing deployed, it will be at the coordinates you provided in an hour or two."

"Thank you, Alfred," she mentioned before hanging up. She had anticipated the conversation and was glad for it to be over now. She could focus on her reason for coming here with that out of the way. Since she had a couple of hours to kill before she could really get to work, she decided to get warmed up ready for a long night. Besides, she needed to loosen up after traveling.

While there wasn't a lot of space in the room, there was enough to do a light workout. It wouldn't quite be the same as she was used to of course without the access to top line gym equipment and vast areas equipped to practice techniques, but it would suffice. She would just have to pick and choose her exercises, the ones that required less space and made the least amount of noise. She didn't need or want to draw any attention to herself after all. She cracked her knuckles before getting into position on the floor to start off with some press-ups. The action was monotonous and repetitive, and it allowed her mind to clear as she focused on the upcoming night of looking for answers.

* * *

 _"Yes. You do. You know. What do you want?"_

 _Cobalt blue eyes hardened and she raised her head, staring into the eerie glowing eyes, "I want Justice."_

* * *

The memory flickered through her mind as her well-defined muscles pumped away with each motion, only fueling her work out. It was the one memory she always turned to before setting out on a mission, no matter how small. It kept her focused, reminded her why she was doing this, now more than ever. She felt the very slight buildup of sweat on her brow as she continued with the constant pace and precision of a well-oiled machine just as she had been trained to do over the years. After a while when her arm and shoulder muscles began to tire, not too much though, she switched it up, repositioning herself to do some sit-ups to work her core, enjoying the slight rush of adrenaline prompted by the exercise. It was a feeling she had become accustomed to, and to an extent craved. It wasn't as intense as when in the heat of battle or on the hunt after a target, nothing could ever beat that and she had tried hard to find something to simulate that same rush, but it still felt amazing. She was certain that those like her felt the same way.

With her core muscles thoroughly warmed up, she moved onto the last part of her work out. She stood up and moved onto doing squats to get her thigh muscles going. It was important to ensure she kept every muscle she possibly could ready, as she would no doubt be needing them all for her work. She did not want to pull a muscle through careless action, something she had done countless times when starting out. Once satisfied, she finished off with a few cool down stretches, making sure to rehydrate herself and splash her face and neck with some cold water from the sink in the bathroom, letting it evaporate from her skin naturally. Feeling refreshed, she rolled her shoulders and perched herself on the edge of the bed, idly checking her phone to see how long it had been. She'd been at it for just over an hour and a half, meaning that there wouldn't be too long to wait now. She hated waiting around as it made her feel uneasy remaining inactive for prolonged periods of time, so was eager to get down to business.

She smiled as the small beacon beeped, meaning the Batwing was closing in fast. She stood up from the bed, shoving the beacon into her pocket, before heading on out of the door to outside around the back of the hotel. She only had to wait a few minutes before she heard the very slight whoosh of air as the Batwing descended. It hovered silently and slightly menacingly above her, before something cylindrical dropped out of it and landed hard. Her smile widened on seeing the stealth plane and she placed a hand on the black square as it scanned her biometrics. After confirming her approved access, the dark metals slid open without delay to reveal the familiar outfit and her typical arsenal of gadgets.

She pulled her cowl up over her face and retrieved tools such as the grappling hook, an assortment of Batarangs and smoke grenades. She stepped away as the Batwing collected the now empty container before taking off again, silently gliding its way to Gotham, where its owner resided.

She aimed the grappling hook at the roof, allowing it to accelerate and pull her up, and she landed in a crouch. She allowed herself a smirk on executing a perfect landing, one she had spent many hours practicing… and messing up before she had honed the technique. _Let's get to work._

* * *

 **The Next Morning - Price House**

Chloe tiredly plodded downstairs, yawning and rubbing at her eyes, nearly tripping over a pair of her boots she'd kicked off haphazardly at the bottom of the stairs last night. She cursed under her breath after stubbing her toe, limping slightly as she made her way into the kitchen on the lookout for some breakfast. She'd been initially roused from her slumber by the smell of pancakes, food being pretty much the only thing that could get her out of bed this early in the morning, otherwise emerging from her den by least mid-day at the earliest. Sure enough, she found Joyce at the oven top, humming to herself as she expertly flipped a pancake over in the pan, already dressed in her uniform ready for work. On hearing the shuffling by the entrance, she turned back and offered up a cheerful smile, "I had a feeling you would be coming down."

Chloe stretched her arms over her head, then scratched at her head as her stomach grumbled angrily to demand immediate sustenance, "I always come down for food."

"Don't I know it," Joyce chuckled as she transferred the last pancake over to the impressive stack. She knew however that no matter how many she made, Chloe would eat them without trouble. Her daughter had a bottomless pit for a stomach, years of finding the cupboards completely cleaned out had taught her that. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time Chloe had actually felt full.

"Grab some plates and cutlery would you?" Joyce instructed as she switched off the heat before placing the now dirty pan and spatula in the sink, something Chloe followed up on with surprisingly little resistance. Where food was involved, she was often more compliant. She also gathered together the sugar and various other confectioneries for the pancakes, setting the table messily as Joyce brought over the plate containing the steaming stack, placing it in the center. Before she sat down at her usual place, Joyce flicked on the TV to check in on the latest news as she normally did before heading off to the Two Whales for her morning shift.

Chloe had already disrupted the stack, snaffling up the pancakes and slathering a more than healthy measure of syrup over each one. She'd always had a sweet tooth and it was any wonder how she hadn't had to have any major dental work because of it given her excessive sugar intake, especially as a kid. She abruptly stopped, the fork with pancake skewered on hovering in midair and a wave of dread passing over her as the top story for this morning blared from the TV. Her eyes widened and the fork hit the plate with a loud clang as her hand went limp. She couldn't process the information she'd just heard and neither could Joyce by her shocked expression, which crossed the possibility of her mishearing off the list. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably as she watched the screen with an unwavering attention, really hoping that she would wake up to find this all a nightmare and even pinched the back of her hand to make sure… unfortunately it did nothing but hurt.

She could hear the blood rushing to her ears, the world around her becoming muffled and hazy as she sat there in silent horror, her heart constricting painfully in her chest as the implications of the news story sank in.

* * *

" _ **In the very early hours of this morning, an attempted attack on a young woman, now identified as 20-year-old Rachel Amber, occurred in a back alleyway as she was on her way to a party. Two supposed assailants have been identified, Logan Robertson and Nathan Prescott, both of whom sustained injuries reportedly from an unknown savior who rescued Miss Amber before disappearing off into the shadows. The police arrived at the scene shortly after the incident. Neither Miss Amber nor the two accused had any knowledge on the mysterious figure. Miss Amber was rushed to hospital to ensure her wellbeing; however, no reported injuries have been declared."**_

* * *

Chloe let out a very tentative sigh of relief on hearing that, although still feeling tense about the whole situation. She instinctively pulled out her phone, punching in the number she knew off by heart, and dialling it, hoping that Rachel would be able to pick up. She'd seen her last night for Christ's sake, Rachel had even told her about that damn party and asked if she wanted to go along. She'd refused, not wanting to hang out with the assholes who would be there. If she'd just gone with her...

"Come on," she muttered angrily as the phone rang, her heart racing erratically. While the news had said she was ok, Chloe wouldn't be happy until she'd heard it directly from Rachel. Besides, while she might be unharmed physically, something like that could really mess you up mentally.

Just as she was about to throw the phone to the ground in frustration, the call was picked up and a familiar voice answered, sounding shaken up, "I guess you heard, huh?"

Chloe kind of felt like crying now, a lump forming in her throat and her voice coming out half-strangled, "Rach…"

"I'm ok before you ask, well as much as I can be in this situation. I'm just a little shaken by it all," Rachel explained, not wanting Chloe to panic too much.

"Where are you?" Chloe demanded in a no nonsense tone.

"I just came out from giving my statement to the police, so-" she was cut off abruptly.

"Wait there, I'm coming to get you," Chloe announced as she strode over to the door, yanking it open and all but sprinting over to her truck to bring Rachel back here.

"Chloe you don't-" Rachel began to protest.

"I am coming to get you," Chloe insisted defiantly, interrupting Rachel's attempts to deter her, "Just… let me do this, please," her voice wavered at the end.

After a moments silence, a sigh came from the other line, "Okay," Rachel sounded so small and vulnerable now, unlike anything Chloe had ever heard from her before.

"I'll be there before you know it. Hang tight," Chloe affirmed as she heard Rachel hang up.

She jammed the key in the ignition, turning it with immense force and hearing the engine splutter to life. She drove faster than she ever had in her life, thankfully in Arcadia the roads were pretty much clear all the time, especially this early. She still cut up a few people and ran red lights, not that she cared right now. She made it to the police station in record time and parked up on the curb, figuring that one more parking ticket wouldn't kill her. She jumped out almost before the truck had fully come to a stop, not even bothering to lock it before running to the door. Anyone who was desperate enough to steal that Junker was welcome to it. She panted lightly from the exertion and panic, searching the lobby area with desperation, her eyes finally settling on a girl with long blonde hair and hazel eyes sat on a chair against the right hand wall. Her feet moved of their own accord toward Rachel, who soon noticed Chloe's presence and stood up to greet her. Chloe launched herself at Rachel, almost knocking the pair of them over, holding her close with a vice-like grip and pinning her arms to her sides.

"Chloe… can't breathe," Rachel spluttered after a few seconds, causing Chloe to loosen her hold ever so slightly.

"Fuck Rachel, you scared me half to death," Chloe mumbled thickly, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes, "I am not letting you go to another party ever again unless I am with you."

"So my plan on getting you to come next time worked then?" Rachel weakly joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Chloe only responded by squeezing her, before releasing her briefly to get a better look at her. She was much paler than usual, her expression tinged with fear and her hazel eyes lacking that playful spark they normally held. Her heart broke on seeing just how helpless she looked, "I'm going to kill those pricks. Just you wait and see," she growled through gritted teeth, anger surging through her body as she clung back onto Rachel to confirm that she was safe, to ensure her eyes weren't lying to her.

"Not if I get there first," Rachel muttered into Chloe's shoulder, now able to return the hug. They stood there for a while in silence, not moving for anyone. Once the initial shock had passed, Chloe reluctantly disengaged and the two of them made their way out of the building towards her truck, which as expected had a familiar yellow parking ticket tucked under the wipers. Chloe simply shoved it in her pocket with the remnants of other tickets and opened the passenger side door for Rachel before getting in the driver's seat.

She so desperately wanted to bombard Rachel with questions, but would wait at least until they got back to her house and she'd calmed down a bit, maybe got some booze or weed into her system. Her hands gripped on tightly to the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white from the pressure as the journey progressed in silence. She kept glancing over at Rachel, who was blankly staring out of the window as the scenery flashed by. That was when you truly knew Rachel wasn't good, if she didn't utter a word. Chloe had only seen her like this once before and it was something she hadn't ever wanted to repeat the experience. This was ten times worse than before.

She soon pulled the truck into the parking space outside her house, scrambling out of the door and hovering around Rachel, but not getting too close, as they made their way towards the door. Rachel needed her space, hating it when people crowded her. It took every ounce of self-restraint for Chloe to keep at arm's length, knowing that Rachel would let her know if she needed her close by. Despite being distracted, something just to the side of the house caught Chloe's attention, more accurately someone. She stopped short, squinting to try and make out who it was and ready to tear into anyone waiting to potentially ambush Rachel.

"I can see you fucker, get your ass where I can see it before I come over there and make you," Chloe snarled aggressively, making sure to put herself in between the figure and Rachel. She had gotten into a few scraps before and could hold her own. She had no qualms in kicking the shit out of someone, especially now when she had all this pent up frustration threatening to bubble over.

The figure calmly stepped out from the shadows. On closer inspection, they were wearing bike leathers and a helmet that obscured their identity. With one swift movement, they took their helmet off, shaking out their mid length brown hair. All the anger dissipated from Chloe's face, replaced with utter bewilderment as her eyes scanned the pale freckled face of the figure that seemed so familiar, yet also different. She tried to speak, but the words got caught in her throat with her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

If this day wasn't fucked up enough already, the one person she thought she would never see again was just standing there in front of her as if no time had passed. When she finally composed herself enough to speak, she managed to get out a choked, "Max?"

Max simply offered up a melancholic smile in response, her now sharp and icy blue eyes softening a fraction on seeing her best friend, the closest they had come to resembling anything even remotely affectionate in the past few years.

A tense silence passed between them, neither knowing how to go about this or how to really react to one another after such a long time apart. Max had run over numerous conversation that could occur on meeting Chloe, ranging from being shouted at to simply having a door slammed in her face, both of which she probably deserved after not getting in contact the moment she was able, particularly in that first year before… She shook her head, pushing the events of that year involving her parents from her mind, instead focusing on the here and now. On actually being here and seeing Chloe, she realized that there was nothing she could have done to prepare appropriately.

Chloe on the other hand was having a complete internal freak out, doing her best not to let it show. She almost couldn't believe her eyes and in a way she didn't want to. Now was the worst possible time for Max to be showing up. Chloe couldn't decide whether to tear into her or hug her… maybe both in quick succession. After a few seconds of trying to sort out how to react, the blind rage took over, one that had been festering for six long years. She strode over to Max, who simply stood there unmoving with an almost impassive expression on her now sharply defined face, the softness of youth long since gone. She would accept whatever reaction Chloe had to give her, well to a degree anyway.

Her actions now fueled by unadulterated rage, logic and reason no longer factoring into the equation, Chloe pulled her hand back and slapped Max across the face with all the force she could muster. Her palm connected with a loud smack, Max's head jerking to the side from the impact. She barely flinched, having experienced much worse, a sharp stinging sensation moving its way through her cheek. She had to admit, even though Chloe didn't look like it, she could hit pretty hard when she wanted to. There would no doubt be a mark.

Brushing off the -however slight- pain, Max took a deep breath as she stared directly into the eyes of her childhood best friend, seeing the anger consuming them. Seeing the hatred hurt way more than the physical hit she'd received, "I let you have that one because you probably deserve it," Max commented softly.

This did nothing to pacify Chloe, if anything it seemed to further increase the rage, "Fuck you, Max," the twitching of her arm indicated that she would likely go for another swing, "Don't you _dare_ come here and act all high and fucking mighty after what you did," her voice faltered at the end as she took the anticipated second swing.

Max sighed and easily caught her wrist before her hand even got close, much to Chloe's surprise, trying to keep her tone calm, "I said you get _one_."

The anger Chloe felt temporarily vanished at how quickly Max had caught her hand, as if it were nothing. She used to be the clumsiest person Chloe knew, tripping over her own feet and literally dropping everything she came into contact with. The thought of Max being even partially coordinated was a shock to the system. Before the rage had a chance to take over again, Chloe felt a slight tug at her sleeve. She turned back to look over her shoulder, seeing Rachel staring back at her with tired eyes that begged her to stop this. A pang of guilt entered the pit of Chloe's stomach, feeling like a total ass for ignoring her, especially after what had happened.

She offered up an apologetic smile to Rachel before turning back to Max, her expression hardening and her tone a forced calm tinged with resentment, "Why are you here, Max? What do you want?"

"I… we need to talk," Max mentioned as confidently as she could in this situation.

"No shit," Chloe huffed, "Might be a few years too late for that."

"Maybe… but we can still try, right?" Max suggested weakly, hoping that Chloe would let her just try to make some kind of amends and to explain a bit, nothing too detailed though. There was no way she could tell her everything that had happened, for starts she probably wouldn't even believe her if she did, there was also the fact that she had to remain silent on certain topics for everyone's safety.

Chloe took the time to give Max a long hard look, already noticing some difference in her childhood best friend. She looked generally healthier and fitter, even with the bike leathers on she could tell that. Max used to be so thin, verging on unhealthily so, and looked as if she might break at any given moment. Now though, it appeared as if she'd gain a few pounds, from the looks of it muscle, but it was hard to tell without seeing her out of the leathers. She didn't look quite as pale either, like she'd actually ventured out into the sun a few times over the years instead of holing away in her room as she used to do. She'd also grown a little, nowhere near as tall as Chloe, but enough for it to be noticeable. There was also the way she carried herself, no longer hunched over and shy like before. Even her voice had changed, having a harder edge and sharper intonation as opposed to the soft-spoken stuttered way she used to speak. Everything about her felt familiar, yet also different.

Chloe looked between Max, Rachel and the front door to her house before letting out a tired sigh, "Don't make me regret this, Caulfield," without another word, Chloe strode over to the door, jammed the key inside the lock, opening the door and entered inside the hallway.

* * *

 **So yeah, that is the prologue. We will slowly be revealing what happened to Max throughout the chapters, so if it's a little confusing now it will make more sense later. Part of it has something to do with Max's parents.**

 **Have an awesome day guys and see you next time.**


	2. Similar but Different

**Hey guys, welcome back. We hope you are all doing well. Enjoy this latest chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter One: Similar but Different**

Chloe frowned as Max trailed behind her and Rachel, her hand brushing lightly over the old photos on the wall, many of which Max had been present for. Her old friend's eyes were distant, as though she were worlds away. She had never been the most attentive of people, but this was something completely different. The ghost of a smile tugged at her lips as she examined the captured memories, her pace slowing to a stop. A flicker of sadness entered her blue eyes as she stared at them, her hand falling limply back to her side once more.

After this brief distraction, the three of them continued on into the lounge area in silence. There was a note on the table from Joyce, telling Chloe to ring her straight away if she needed to. Chloe pocketed the note before taking her usual seat at the table with Rachel sliding into the one next to her. She rubbed at her temples as Max instinctively sat opposite her with surprisingly effortless grace. In fact, she hadn't even knocked into anything or tripped up yet. This was almost unheard of. Max almost always used to trip up over the rug by the door when she came over without fail… not this time though.

 _Fuck. I need to de-stress._

Chloe took a deep calming breath before lifting her head to face Max properly. It was so strange seeing her again like this. To be honest, Chloe thought she'd never see Max again. She'd always clung onto a scrap of hope that she'd turn up one day out of the blue. Now she was here though, she wasn't sure what to think. Her eyes fell on Max's still red cheek, feeling a slight pang of guilt. An awkward silence lingered over them, neither of them knowing how to even go about this mess. Chloe glanced over to Rachel, who was being uncharacteristically quiet now. Part of that was no doubt because of her ordeal from earlier, the rest probably out of consideration for the delicate situation. This was something Chloe and Max had to sort out between themselves. When Rachel noticed her looking, she offered up a gently encouraging smile.

Chloe was torn between which issue to address first. She wanted to check Rachel was definitely ok, but it was hard to ignore Max sitting right there when there were so many unanswered questions. Clamping down on selfish thought for now, she turned to Rachel with a concerned expression, "You ok?"

Rachel shrugged casually before offering up her reply, "I've felt better, but I'll live."

It was obvious that she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. Chloe knew that feeling all too well. Max tilted her head, leaning back into the chair and cradling her elbows with her hands. There was a certain calmness to her now. She used to be so scatty and jumpy, which didn't help with her clumsiness at all. Something about her seemed more focused and aware than before. Seeing her like this was a bit eerie really.

"You have questions." It was quiet, not a question. Not an accusation. Just an observation.

Chloe exhaled deeply to compose herself before responding to this, "You could say that."

Max glanced through the glass of the sliding door leading out into the backyard, noticing the rusted, paint-peeled frame of the swing set she and Chloe used to spend so much time on as kids. It was surprising to see it still standing after all these years. They'd often come up with elaborate plans for the future while trying to swing as high as possible. Adventures that entailed faraway lands, mythical beings and legendary treasures… if only the imaginative dreams of children had been enough for it to come true. Maybe to an extent they had, for her at least. It wasn't quite how she'd imagined it as a kid though. The world was a much darker place than in their idle fantasies.

She managed to pull herself out of the overwhelming nostalgia enough to turn her attention back to their hesitant conversation, "I'm not sure how many I can answer. Probably not as many as you're hoping for. Still, you deserve to ask them at least."

Chloe had kind of expected more initial resistance here from Max. Her fear of confrontation had often prevented her from bringing up certain topics, until forced anyway. Even then, she could be very reluctant. Six years' worth of questions rushed to the forefront of Chloe's mind, all getting tangled up as they struggled for urgency. Where should she even begin?

Finally, she managed a succinct, "What happened?"

Max smiled, a sad slightly apologetic smile, "Gotham."

Moving away from Arcadia had been a mistake. Not that she'd known that before leaving. It's not like she'd really had a choice in the matter though. Going to Gotham was supposed to have been a positive thing to provide her family with a better future. For a time it had, but eventually that blind optimism had screwed everything up.

Chloe's brow furrowed at her cryptic answer, "I might need a little more than that, Max."

"Gotham is…" Max trailed off, "It's a hard city to explain to people who have never been there. But I will try."

Max took a breath and let her eyes close, "Gotham City is _old._ One of the first cities to spring up in the west during the Industrial Revolution. A time of corrupt business practices, gang violence, and criminal activity under the noses of the Government. That spirit… never left. It's… I don't know… there are theories, but Gotham is a violent city by nature."

That sentence was probably the understatement of the century. Violence and terror had ruled unopposed until the Batman came to town. He gradually began to change things, and whether the caped crusader could see it or not, Gotham was slowly healing. Cleaning the streets of Gotham was a task of herculean proportions, but that was to be expected given its dark history. All cities had their secrets, Gotham's were just much more harrowing. The only way to really make a noticeable difference was an unwavering perseverance and the resources to back it up, two things Batman had in abundance.

She shook her head, putting herself back in the present. After shuffling slightly in her chair and gathering her thoughts, she returned her focus back on Chloe again. Max's eye met hers with a piercing intensity, "In one sentence, Gotham City is where innocence goes to die."

There was something in Max's eyes then that proved this statement true. Any remnant of blissful naivety had long since vanished, giving way to brutal realization. Now, she just looked _tired._ Maybe even world-weary. For someone as young as her, that was troubling. Just what had Max experienced to become like this? Chloe waited for a moment to see if she would continue. She didn't.

With Max's prolonged silence, Chloe exhaled deeply and closed her eyes momentarily. Part of her wanted to just hitch on out of here and run away from her problems once again. If she did that now, she might not get another chance to learn the truth. At the very least, she should hear Max out. Chloe gently drummed her fingers on the table as she considered where to go from here. For some reason, the questions she so desperately wanted to ask got caught in her throat. Maybe she was kind of scared of finding out the answers. Not that she would admit that aloud.

After swallowing her apprehensions Chloe hesitantly prompted, "Why did you come back here? And don't just say to see me," she tried hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice as she pressed on, "You had six years to do that. So something else must have brought you here."

Chloe was right. Something else had brought her back to Arcadia, a loose end she had to investigate. As much as she'd like to say that it was just to see Chloe, she would be lying. That wasn't fair on either of them. Still, she couldn't tell anyone her main reason. It was far too dangerous to get people like Chloe involved. She did however need people to know that she was here. Just in case. If something went wrong, the possibility of that being pretty high, she needed a backup plan. No doubt there would be at least one person who would relentlessly search for her if she was gone for too long. Therefore, she needed to leave some kind of trail to follow.

Max sat forward in her chair, resting her chin on her now interlocked hands with her elbows propped on the table, "Life was getting pretty hectic, so I guess I needed a break from it all," this wasn't really a lie. Moving to Gotham had been the catalyst for a whirlwind of change. She had found herself missing the slow paced nature of Arcadia more than once, "Plus, there are some good photo ops here. I just needed that final push to get me to come back... to stop making excuses."

Chloe gave her a searching stare; one she didn't back down from like she might have before. It was hard to gauge what Max was thinking. Before, it had almost been too easy. She had been an open book, unable to hide anything. Now though… all Chloe could do was take Max's word on her reasons for being back. If Max was lying to her then there must be a good reason behind it, right? Deciding to trust her, Chloe didn't push the topic any further. She doubted Max would tell her even if she tried.

Instead, she decided to move onto another question floating around in her head, "So, what's kept you so busy in Gotham then?"

Max contemplated her answer for a few seconds, deciding to keep it as vague as possible and hoping that Chloe would get the hint, "There's always something. You'd be surprised."

There had been a never ending tidal wave of trouble in Gotham, there still was even now. Just when one problem had been solved, ten more stepped in to take its place. Like a many headed hydra. It could become overwhelming at times and feel as if nothing was really changing because of that nature. Still, it was better than sitting back and doing nothing… a concept very few in Gotham embraced.

"Can't answer that one, huh? Fair enough I guess," Chloe conceded with surprisingly little resistance.

Max found herself wondering what Chloe had done with her life now. She'd always had the potential to do whatever she wanted to, although maybe she lacked a little in motivation, "How about you? What have you been doing since I left?"

Chloe shrugged as she leaned back in her chair with a loud creak, "Nothing all that exciting. It's probably going to be pretty boring compared to whatever you've been up to."

That comment brought a rare smile to Max's lips, "There was never a boring moment with Chloe Price around."

In all the time Max had spent around Chloe she could honestly say that there had never been a dull moment. While some of her "bright" ideas had been questionable safety wise, they had helped pass more than a few otherwise uneventful hours. No doubt Chloe would be all over the crazy and insane shit she'd done over the past few years while in Gotham. Max could never tell her about that though.

"Arcadia isn't exactly a hive of activity as you know, if anything it's become drearier over the years," Chloe shoved her hands in her pocket, her fingertips brushing against the various crap she stored in them like crumpled up unpaid parking tickets, loose change and cigarettes, "so you have to make your own fun."

"You always did have your own unique idea of fun though," Max remarked while remembering all the stupid things Chloe had gotten her doing, or at least tried to anyway. She could be pretty stubborn when she needed to be, despite her previously docile nature.

Chloe didn't even deny this, "Probably more so now."

"I could guess by the tats and blue hair," Max's eyes wandered from the faded blue strands partially hidden under a beanie down to the colorful tattoo sleeve visible on her right arm, taking in her new punk style of clothing along the way, "You've become a real punk rocker chick."

It had been a shock to see Chloe again since she'd changed so much. Max had actually started to second guess herself when she'd first laid eyes on her. She was very different from the mischievous teen with flowing strawberry blonde hair. Then again, Max herself had changed too.

This observation seemed to amuse Chloe greatly, "You don't know the half of it. I'm even a high school dropout to boot. Blackhell didn't have what it took to keep me down."

Chloe's devil-may-care attitude had definitely intensified since their childhood, both a humorous and saddening thought, "You're really pushing the stereotypes. A rebel without a cause."

"I'm not the one who has a bike," Chloe pointed out almost sounding envious, "The Max Caulfield I knew wouldn't have gotten onto one if you paid her."

Max allowed herself a small laugh. That much, at least, was true, "Time has a funny way of changing people." _Some more than others..._

Chloe lightly tapped her fingers on the table as she mumbled, "You don't need to tell me that."

The conversation that had been flowing so naturally up until this point slowly faded back into awkward silence. For a few moments, it had felt exactly like when they had been kids. They had talked for hours about non-sensical dreams and topics, never running out of things to say. On the few occasions when they had been silent, it had been just as meaningful as words. Often they could convey just as much with a meaningful glance or gesture, more even. Not anymore...

"How long are you here for then?" Chloe asked, finally breaking the silence.

"I… don't know," Max truthfully admitted.

She hadn't really thought too much about that when deciding to come back to Arcadia. What she had planned could take a week if she was exceptionally lucky, or it could be much longer than that. It all depended on how many complications she encountered. In her experience, if something could go wrong it would. Especially when dealing with the most heinous criminals Gotham had to offer.

"Quite the plan you've got there," Chloe mentioned with playful sarcasm.

"Like you have a better one," Max countered almost instantaneously.

"Hey, we're not talking about me here," Chloe protested the what she considered to be unjustified sass.

It was then that Max glanced over to the girl with long blonde hair and hazel eyes sat beside Chloe. She had been silent this entire time, simply watching the two of them talk. Chloe caught her looking, "Oh yeah, you haven't met Rachel before have you?"

That wasn't completely true. As far as Chloe was concerned, the two of them had never met. In reality however, they had once yesterday evening. Met might be an overstatement. Rachel wouldn't know her from the next person. That's the way Max had wanted it to be. Anonymity played a crucial role in her life now. It was the difference between life and death, not just her own either. There was a good reason she didn't publically advertise her involvement with the Bat Clan, several in fact. It would be suicidal to.

Rachel offered her a distracted smile, "I've heard a lot about you, Max."

It was always a bit strange to meet people Max knew to an extent, but who didn't know her. That feeling hadn't faded much in all her time doing this, "All of it good I hope."

"There are mixed reviews here and there, but they're mostly good," Rachel reassured softly.

Chloe's brow furrowed in concern at the abnormal lack of witty comebacks and flirtatious remarks. Rachel seemed kind of flat, which was understandable. Still, it was worrying to see such a drastic change in character. Hopefully she would be back to her usual bubbly self in no time, "Rach has had a bit of a difficult morning so…"

Max waved away the need for explanations, "It's cool," she turned to Rachel with a sympathetic smile, "Don't stick around on my account. If you need to go sleep or whatever."

She must be feeling shell-shocked from the attack yesterday, even if she was doing her best to hide it. It was a good thing for Rachel that Max had been back in Arcadia really. If not… well, she'd spent enough time in Gotham to know what could happen. In fact, she'd been forbidden to travel alone at certain times to ensure her safety for that very reason. No late night jogs around the city for her. Gotham was a dangerous place for anybody, but especially for someone as young and inexperienced in combat as she had been at the time. Even now, she wouldn't want to risk it. She didn't need any more potential danger in her life if she could help it. While Arcadia wasn't anywhere near as perilous as Gotham given the sheer size difference alone, Rachel's encounter proved that it could still happen. Nowhere was really "safe", no matter how much people liked to pretend otherwise. Especially when that town was home to a family like the Prescotts. That name brought a bitter taste to her tongue. They were part of the reason she was here now, a large part actually.

"As heartwarming as all this concern is, I'm fine really," a playful glint flickered in her tired hazel eyes, "Unless that was a subtle ploy to get me out of the way."

"Not at all."

Rachel smirked lightly, "Good, because you'd have to drag me out."

Max was glad to see her able to joke a little. It was a good sign for recovery. She'd seen enough people slowly driven mad by unaddressed trauma in Gotham and had no desire to witness it again, particularly knowing that it would affect Chloe too, "I'll keep that in mind."

"So, what are you going to do now?" Chloe asked, drawing the conversation back to its original intentions.

"I hadn't really decided yet. I guess just getting used to sleepy town life again," Max focused on her hands resting on the table as she twiddled her thumbs, "After that… who knows?"

This was the first blatant lie Max had told Chloe. As much as she despised lying to her after everything they had been through, she had little choice. It was either that or risk putting her in unfathomable danger, something she would never voluntarily do unless absolutely unavoidable. Even then she would be reluctant. Max knew exactly what she needed to do next. Years of training and practice had taught her that planning was key to survival, alongside adaptability. Too rigid a plan could lead to your downfall just as much as being unprepared. It was a subtle balance that few could maintain successfully.

Chloe nodded silently, seemingly accepting her reply. At that moment, a high insistent beeping filled the air that disrupted the conversation. Without hesitation, Max pulled out her phone. She had to be on call 24/7 nowadays. Her personal mission in Arcadia was important, but if something more urgent came up she'd have no choice but to return to Gotham until the problem had been dealt with. The only reason she had managed to find the time to come here was because of a surprising lull in major criminal activity. That was worrying in more ways than one. On the surface things may appear calm, but underneath was a completely different story. Relative tranquility in Gotham could only mean one thing… someone out there was plotting something huge. Maybe it was even connected to her reason for being here. There was only one way to find out.

She didn't even react when she saw the caller ID. It was a call she had been expecting ever since leaving Gotham. To be honest, she was a little surprised it had taken this long really. Maybe she had been cut some slack for once and given the benefit of the doubt, a novel concept. Of course, it hadn't lasted that long. She couldn't blame everyone for wanting to check in on her though. The Bat Clan kept close tabs on all their members and any unexpected movements were treated with understandable suspicion. Over the years, they'd made enough powerful and amoral enemies to justify this caution. For this reason, they had to have each other's backs, because it was sure as hell that nobody else would.

Max awkwardly cleared her throat, "I, uh… have to take this call. Important family stuff."

Chloe shrugged, "Don't let me stop you."

Figuring that it was best to keep this call private, Max headed on out of the sliding glass door into the backyard before answering, "Gordon."

"Where are you?" a familiar voice demanded immediately, completely skipping the usual pleasantries, "Dad's freaking out, you know."

The controlled flicker of worry in the voice caused a pang of guilt to form in the pit of Max's stomach. She hadn't wanted to cause any unnecessary panic, but knew damn well that every single one of them would have tried to stop her. Batman especially. He knew better than anyone the consequences of seeking revenge. There was no way she could've let the chance slip away from her though. Not when it could potentially reveal the answers to so many, if not all, of her questions about the fate of her biological parents.

Max was pulled back from this thought by a soft clicking noise, signaling that she was now completely locked into the conversation and unable to hang up. This made her lips quirk up into a small smile, "Don't trust me not to hang up, huh?"

"Can you blame me?" Barbara Gordon, also known to a select few as the former Batgirl and more recently Oracle, asked her adopted sister from her end, "You have a bad habit of doing that. Also, I noticed that you didn't answer my question."

Max sighed, she'd been dreading this talk. She ran her fingers tiredly through her hair before speaking, "He worries too much. I'll be back soon, I'm..." she paused momentarily to glance back at the half painted house she knew well from her childhood, "just taking care of some important business."

"My computer has you in Arcadia," Oracle stated matter-of-fact, "I didn't realize there was anything of interest there. You realize Bruce is going to be furious."

That was something Max already knew all too well. The show of anger Batman displayed in the face of crime was very different from the way the man behind the mask expressed his frustrations. That was merely an act. In reality, Bruce Wayne didn't use words when angry. He didn't need to. She had only seen him really infuriated a handful of times since first meeting him. Each time the sheer intensity of his seething silence had sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. The aura emanating from him in these moments was intimidating to say the least, his presence seeming to fill the whole room in a matter of seconds. It was an eerie sensation she did not want to experience again anytime soon, especially if it was to be directed at her.

Max exhaled lightly, wandering over to the swing set and idly runs her index finger along the rusted frame while lowering her voice, "I'm following a lead right now, Bab. There's something linking to the mob here. Or... what's left of the mob. Can you cover for me until I try up something?"

There was a moment's pause before a suspicious tone filtered through from the other end, "I have a feeling there is something you're not telling me about all this... but fine. I'll give it a go, only because you asked so nicely. You owe me though."

"When don't I owe you?" Max commented with a light chuckle, "I'll admit there are some ghosts that need to be laid to rest here. You always were too perceptive for me to hide things from you."

She could just imagine the smug grin Barbara must have now, "It's a skill. I guess I can't blame you for wanting to resolve a few loose ends though," she admitted sympathetically, "I would too in your position. Just make sure to finish up as soon as possible. There is only so long I can stall for time before they send out a search party."

Max let out a sigh of relief knowing that she had some time before she had to deal with a ton of questions. Hopefully by that time she would have a solid lead worth investigating. There was no way she could be denied if this was something to be legitimately concerned about… at least she hoped anyway. It was always hard to really tell what Batman was thinking unless he told you outright. Right now, her chances of being able to follow this to its completion were fifty-fifty, well maybe a bit less than that since she took off without saying a word. She'd have to do some major apologizing before he would even consider letting her continue. That was something she wasn't really looking forward to.

"I'll be back Babs. Trust me. Love ya."

"You'd better," the other girl added before finally hanging up.

* * *

While Max was having this conversation, Chloe and Rachel had remained seated at the table. This day had been completely crazy for both of them. Even trying to process a fraction of it was proving difficult. For some reason weird situations like this always seemed to hit you all at once like an unexpected punch to the gut, leaving everyone involved feeling totally disoriented and winded. If this had happened over the week it would have been insane enough, let alone having it all suddenly thrust at them in a matter of hours.

After a few seconds of Max leaving, Chloe slump back in her chair with a deep sigh as she tilted her head back and covered her eyes with a hand, "I don't even know what's going on anymore."

"You're not the only one," Rachel mumbled tiredly while pushing her fringe out of her eyes.

Last night seemed like a bad nightmare, too surreal to have actually happened. She could remember trying to drag Chloe along to the party and failing miserably as expected. Not wanting to miss out, she'd decided to go alone and had the bright idea of walking there instead of getting a cab or something. It wasn't that far away and she'd wanted to save some cash. Unlike some of Arcadia Bay's residents, she didn't have money to frivolously spend… well, there were things she'd rather get into debt over at least. While walking, she'd had yet another enlightening idea to take a shortcut down a dingy alley. This had been a huge mistake. Out of nowhere, Nathan and Logan had suddenly appeared and started harassing her. Just when she thought things were going to get violent, the pair of them were suddenly knocked to the floor. It was too dark to really make out who was helping her, not that she really cared at that point. Within a matter of minutes, Nathan and Logan had been knocked out cold by the mysterious figure. Before she had the chance to thank whoever it was, they'd disappeared back off into the shadows. Rachel had called the police and they'd carted the unconscious Nathan and Logan away.

If that wasn't weird enough, now Max just appeared out of the blue. Chloe had talked about her a few times over the years, offering up small tidbits of information. They went a long way back and had been childhood best friends. Six years ago, Max and her parents had moved and that was the last Chloe had seen or heard of her… until now at least. Although from the sounds of it, Max wasn't quite the same as before. Neither was Chloe.

She could worry about all that later, now was the time for a little teasing. Rachel stifled the oncoming grin, trying to assume as serious an expression as she could muster while shaking her head, "I have to admit, I'm a bit disappointed in you, Chloe."

Chloe looked on in confusion, one of her strawberry blonde eyebrows quirking upwards, "What?"

Rachel let her squirm for a long moment as she casually twirled a strand of her long blonde hair around her finger. Just when it looked like Chloe was going to explode from the buildup, she finally let the smug smirk loose, "You failed to tell me how smoking hot Max was. Shame on you."

Blue eyes widened a fraction as the words settled in, with Chloe soon averting her gaze with abnormal shyness as she muttered under her breath, "Jesus fucking christ, Rach."

"Oh right, like you hadn't noticed," Rachel chuckled lightly at Chloe's uncharacteristic show of embarrassment, "Even with the leathers on it's obvious. I'm curious to see underneath it all..." her voice trailed off as a thoughtful expression settled on her face, like she was really considering it.

Chloe rolled her eyes at this, trying desperately to stop herself getting flustered. Rachel always did this, trying to mess with her head to break through her well-crafted punk demeanor and put her at a disadvantage, "Please can we not talk about Max that way? It feels... weird."

She still remembered Max best as a shy dorky teen, so thinking of her like that felt strange. In what way she had yet to figure out. It had been expected of Rachel to finally make comments like that, she was a relentless flirt and proud to be, not that it had prepared Chloe any better. This was actually pretty tame for her thankfully. Hopefully it would stay that way.

Rachel's eyebrows raised suspiciously, conveying more than words ever could, "Uh-huh. Sure it does."

Chloe found herself needing to justify something, anything just to get some semblance of normalcy into their conversation again, "For the record, she wasn't like… that when I last saw her. In fact, she used to look like she'd break if you even looked at her for too long."

"I bet that's a shock then," Rachel observed now resting her chin on her hand.

Chloe merely shrugged at this, "Kind of I guess."

In their own ways, both of them had changed drastically. Something told her that it went beyond physical change though. While that might be the most obvious from a quick glance, it was the reasons behind those changes that were the most important. Her own punk rocker style was mostly an attempt to disconnect herself from her past and to rebel against everyone who had fucked her over. What did the change mean for Max?

Rachel decided to let up on her for now on the teasing front, "Gotham must've been good for her in some ways."

When she received no answer Rachel hesitantly called out, "Chloe?"

Instead of replying immediately, Chloe's eyes wandered over to the glass door to see Max stood by the old swing set listening intently to her call, "I'm not so sure about that Rach."

Something wasn't right. She had no idea what exactly, but that much was obvious. Max seemed almost like an entirely different person now. Sure, she hadn't expected her to stay exactly the same, but this level of change only happened in response to difficult times. It had been similar with her having to deal with the death of her dad and the loss of her best friend, aka her main sources of support, all in the space of a few weeks. People didn't just change like that at random. That much she did know.

Before Rachel could question any further, the sound of the glass door sliding back open caught their attention. They both looked back to see Max entering back into the house having finished her call. She didn't sit back down though, "I have some things I really need to take care of now, so…"

She didn't need to say anything else, not that she thought she could. Even imagining the inevitable disappointment on Chloe's face made her feel miserable. She almost didn't want to meet her eyes right now. When she finally plucked up the courage to, her heart dropped on seeing the exact expression she had feared.

"I… see," was all Chloe could trust herself to say in that moment. She had hoped Max might stick around a bit longer than this so they could maybe spend some time together. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't force Max to stay. She could get angry, cry, beg and guilt trip, but at the end of the day that would only work for so long.

Swallowing her pride she managed to ask, -without sounding _too_ despondent, "Will you be coming back?"

Max so desperately wanted to say yes without hesitation, but she shouldn't get Chloe's hopes up. That would be a dick move on her part. The reality was that she might not be able to, no matter how much she wanted otherwise. Even knowing this, she found herself saying the total opposite, "Tell you what, I'll swing by tomorrow."

This caused Chloe to perk up considerably, "You mean that?"

There was no way Max could back out now, not that she really wanted to anyway. She had missed Chloe, more than she wanted to admit, "Yeah. I promise."

Those words had not left her mouth in such a long time. She knew that promises were meaningless, easily broken contracts destined for betrayal, but still found herself compelled to make one to Chloe then. To be fair, she had planned to stay longer than this today. If Barbara hadn't called giving her an out she would have. A couple of hours could hardly make up for six years of radio silence, but it was a start at least. Max did feel a bit better knowing that Rachel had been around for some of it though. If Chloe had been on her own the entire time it would have been so much worse.

Chloe stood up from the table and walked outside with her. They stopped about a foot from Max's bike, awkwardly shuffling their feet. After a hesitant moment, Chloe took a step forward and hugged her. It was almost funny to think they could go from slapping to hugging so quickly. Then again, their relationship had always been like that. A brief flash of anger over something and then they were back to normal again after they'd calmed down. Max wrapped her arms around Chloe as well, really noticing the height difference now. Chloe had always been a bit taller than her, taking every chance to point it out. Now she must have a good four inches on Max. After a few moments, Max reluctantly pulled away and began getting ready for her ride.

Chloe awkwardly cleared her throat as she motioned towards the bike to distract herself from the realization that Max was leaving her yet again. Even though she'd promised to come back, it was hard to trust anything these days. She wanted to though. Her voice came out thicker and less confident than she'd hoped, "I expect a ride on that at some point by the way. My punk image won't be complete without at least one short spin."

Max paused mid-way through putting her helmet back on, her lips quirking upwards into a small smile, "We couldn't have that."

Now all suited up and with everything secured once more, Max turned back to Chloe with the visor on her helmet raised, "I'm not sure when I'll be able to stop by, but I'll try not to make it too late. I doubt Joyce would be too happy being woken up in the middle of the night."

Chloe scoffed at this, "My mom is the least of your problems. It's step-douche you want to avoid angering."

Imagining Joyce with anyone other than William was weird. Max found herself wondering what kind of guy she'd met. By the sounds of it Chloe didn't approve, but maybe that was just her. Maybe not though, "I sense a story there."

"More than one…" Chloe sighed deeply before cracking her knuckles, "Anyway, get your ass out of here before I change my mind on letting you escape."

"She means it," Rachel quipped, finally making her presence known after having watched them for a while by the door, "She'll tie you to the bed."

"Thanks for the warning." Max smirked as she flipped down her visor, and kicked the bike to life. She let Chloe appreciate the engine's purr before she twisted the accelerator, and sped off. Her mind now turned back to her mission as she followed the tight corners. She had a long night ahead of her, and sleep would be a rare commodity in the coming days.

* * *

 **Stay safe out there and see you next time.**


	3. Secrets

**Hey guys, welcome back to the story. I know it's been ages since an update. This one will be a slow updating story, but Tyler and I have every intention of continuing it.**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Secrets**

Night had fallen. The already slow nature of the town grinding to a standstill, and now Max would have to be even more careful. In a town this small, she didn't have the luxury of high rooftops or deep shadows anymore. And any movement would likely be spotted if she wasn't careful enough. While the stakes weren't quite as high as in Gotham, careless behavior in the crime-infested metropolis almost certainly resulting in instantaneous injury or death, she still wanted to keep a low profile. If her suspicions were correct, this went beyond the limited scope of Arcadia Bay. _Way_ beyond.

She pressed a hand gently to the side of her cowl and the blue holographic interface flickered to life, the complex program Batman had designed automatically cataloging her vitals, light level and body heat of nearby organisms. _Four-night watchmen,_ she mused, _each on different levels and ends of the campus._

Max allowed herself a smirk. _This is gonna be easy._

First things first, she needed a way in. That might pose a small challenge since she couldn't use the conventional methods. Gotham and Arcadia were at two different ends of the spectrum, with Gotham as the pinnacle of technology. Until she was on the inside, any digital forms of hacking would be essentially useless. Maybe with the exception of a distraction technique. So in other words, she needed to "borrow" a key. It was easy enough to locate the security guard closest to her position, patrolling the nearby parking lot. Sticking close to the shadows, Max headed off to her destination. Thankfully, Blackwell's security task force was lacking in both members and resources, making it much easier to deal with. Once her target had been spotted, she hid out of sight ready to launch her attack.

She readied her grapnel gun, taking careful aim from behind the main school building, and pulled the trigger. He never knew what happened, the hook wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and the winch yanked her forward. She maneuvered so that she could send him to the ground when she impacted and rolled, quickly delivering a blow that knocked the man out cold. Within a heartbeat, he was down. Before she could be discovered, she moved his unconscious body out of sight, swiping the keys in the process.

 _First stop, security._ The keys were to get her inside so she could disable any cameras. Or at least loop old footage. It was an _old_ trick and pretty basic in the grand scheme of things. She couldn't afford to leave any trace that she was here, not until it was far too late for anyone to stop her. With her new task in mind, she started plotting a route. Once mapped out, taking into account the predictable security patrol circles of the three remaining guards, she wasted no time heading to her updated objective.

Careful to avoid detection, she snuck through the grounds towards Blackwell's main building. Constantly checking her location marker, she finally made it to a safe spot. All she had to do now was hack into Blackwell's security mainframe. Well… security mainframe was a bit of a strong way to describe it. As expected it didn't take long to achieve her goal, although there were more cameras around than she had first anticipated, concentrated around the Principal's office and the hallway leading up to it. This highly suspicious distribution of cameras just made everything easier for her. She would know _exactly_ where to go, painting a figurative red X on the area.

With that small hurdle out of the way, she checked the position of the three remaining security guards. There were two in the main building, both on different floors, and another in the nearby pool building. She waited for an opportune moment before making a move, when one of the guards began to patrol outside, heading off towards the dorm building and leaving only a single obstacle inside for her. If everything went to plan she wouldn't need to even interact with the remaining wardens.

Max barely made a sound as she crept through the empty hallways, listening closely for any sign of movement. This wasn't the first time she had broken into somewhere, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last. To be honest, breaking into Blackwell was more like child's play compared to other missions. However, complacency was not encouraged among the Batclan. She managed to make it to the office door without incident, finding it locked. Now at her destination, she began to check the keys to see which fit the door but, to her annoyance, none of the keys fit. This discovery made her frown, mildly angry at her underestimation but also more confident that she would find something incriminating here. Hopefully enough to get the Bat on side.

 _Just what are you hiding, Wells? Something to do with the Prescotts no doubt…_

The very thought of that name brought a bad taste to her mouth, not to mention a surge of rage through her body. She wouldn't rest until they had been brought to justice for what they had done, or what she suspected them of doing. The future heir to the Prescott empire, Nathan Prescott, attended Blackwell. There had to be a connection, some information here that would help her. If not… she had nothing. Less than nothing really. Without a sufficient lead, she'd be making her way back to Gotham with her tail between her legs. There was only so long before Batman would begin to suspect something was up if he hadn't already. He was, after all, the world's greatest detective.

As always the more time she spent in one place, the higher the chance that she would be discovered. Even the most incompetent guard could eventually find her if she overstayed her welcome. There were only really two options now, bust the door open or try for a more old school lock picking technique. Since she didn't want to leave any evidence of her being here, she voted to pick the lock. In Gotham, most security measures were digital so required special equipment to hack into. Arcadia, however, was not as high tech. She crouched down and examined the door closer, finding that it had a pin tumbler lock. Now this was established, she took the snap gun she'd brought along and inserted the steel rod into the lock. With one swift press of the trigger, the driver pins were temporarily forced upwards, allowing Max to enter the office.

Once inside she switched on a small flashlight and quickly scanned her surroundings to locate points of interest. The most obvious avenue of investigation was the computer sat on the solid wood desk by the window overlooking the campus' grounds. There were various files and binders lining the shelves, none of them particularly jumping out at her. If anything they were probably just student files and other irrelevant documents. Sensitive information wouldn't be so easily accessible. With this in mind, she made her way over to the desk and hacked into the computer. She didn't really have time to check every individual file now, as much as she would like to. It would be quicker to download everything and look through it later. While waiting she placed an inconspicuous bug in the room, just in case. When the data had been downloaded, Max wasted no time erasing her presence before making a swift exit, her only detour to put the keys back on the guard's belt.

All in all, this mission had been successful. On the surface at least. She wouldn't really be able to tell if it had been worthwhile until she had sifted through the files now in her possession. This is exactly what she began to do the second she returned to her hotel room. The data she had collected was her lifeline, well she hoped it would be anyway. She'd risked a lot to obtain it and was running out of time, fast.

"Come on, there has to be _something_ here. There just has to be."Max muttered to herself as she scanned the various files. Most of them were useless as she had expected, completely unrelated to her mission. A few of the files were peripherally related to her case, indications of Nathan Prescott's misconduct and aggressive outbursts that read like a rap sheet. To be honest she wasn't surprised by that if the Prescotts were involved as deeply in criminal activity as she suspected. Her gut instinct was usually spot on in cases like this. Nobody became that violent without some kind of catalyst. For someone like Nathan stuck in the middle, it would be almost impossible for his family's shady undertakings not to affect him.

There were a few encrypted files among the long list that caught her attention as she skimmed through. Blackwell Academy had no need for that kind of security... unless the Principal, or someone else related to Blackwell, had something to hide. If there was anything in this data relating to her case, it would be in these files. It was time to put her hacking skills to the test.

She retrieved a device from her duffel bag, hooking it up to start the decryption process. One major benefit of working with the Batman were all the high tech gadgets those in his team had access too. He had a lot of money to play with and that sure as hell showed. It was almost impossible not to be impressed by his extensive arsenal of weapons and gadgets, from his trademark simple yet effective batarangs to the legendary Batmobile. She did wish that he could come up with some more inventive names for his gadgets rather than just sticking 'bat' in front of everything, though.

While she was waiting for the files to be decrypted, she laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Things would only get busier from here, especially if the data revealed something particularly incriminating. Batman would surely be on his way by now if he wasn't here already which was a distinct possibility. Both Alfred and Barbara knew where she was, and their input wouldn't even be necessary to track her down. Regardless of whether she found something or not, he was still going to be pissed that she had basically disobeyed him. By this point, it was just exactly _how_ pissed he would be. Finding a solid lead might soften the anger slightly. That's all she could hope for at this point. She had to keep reminding herself that it would all be worth it in the end.

A soft electronic beep filled the silence, signaling that at least one of the files had been decrypted. With no time to lose, she sat up and began examining the newly available information. It seemed that she had only scratched the surface on the Prescott's misdeeds, particularly Nathan's. The cumulative force of his crimes could easily land him a life sentence if they'd gone to an impartial court that was. He almost gave the petty criminals in Gotham a run for their money with his long list of misdemeanors, from trespassing to theft and even assault. If not for her intervention the other day, Rachel would have been added to the list of increasingly brutal activities. Just another name.

Living in Gotham for so long had desensitized Max to the violence to a degree. She'd witnessed much worse. Didn't mean it got any easier witnessing the aftermath. How any of them slept at night seeing what they'd seen and knowing what they knew was anyone's guess, especially Batman. It was a matter of compartmentalization, keeping this part of her life from overwhelming her. The same could be said for the other heroes who kept secret identities: People like Green Arrow or Black Canary, or even the other members of the Batclan.

Shaking herself, she focused as the files finished decrypting. She frowned, _Rachel in the Dark Room?_ Instead of getting answers, she seemed to be accumulating even more questions. All this evidence showed that the Prescotts were corrupt and Nathan needed some serious help, but was that enough? The Batclan had enough on their plates trying to uproot the corruption in Gotham without worrying about a small, basically irrelevant town like Arcadia. It wasn't that they didn't care, the problem was that Gotham provided enough of a seemingly impossible challenge. For Batman to act she would need a direct link to Gotham, something to make it worth his while and not a simple distraction from his main aim. Combine that with Batman's duties for the League and Max would likely be facing this investigation on her own.

That was a possibility she was more than happy to take if it meant she could continue her search on the Prescotts… and beyond. It would be much easier with Batman's approval, however begrudging. He better than anyone would understand why she was doing this…

" _It's alright to be afraid."_

Her eyes slammed shut, as she pinched the bridge of her nose. As the voice echoed she shook her head, forcing the memory into the back of her mind. She couldn't, however, suppress the full body shudder that raced up her spine.

She glanced at the laptop, sighed and powered it down. Maybe some sleep would do her good.

* * *

It was dark. The shadows concealing dormant machines behind a shroud of natural sounds and rock formations. The Batcave was a functional blend of nature and machine, with the stalactites and stalagmites giving off an impression of being inside the maw of a great beast. In short, the Batcave was a tribute to psychological warfare. Even more so in its dormant state. It wouldn't remain so for long.

"On."

There was a hum, and it slowly built as the technology activated. Lights flickered to life, revealing gleaming metal skywalks and the caverns below. The elevator lowered, zooming down the metal railings as the cave was bathed light.

The occupants of the elevator were practically a study in contrasts. One was tall, with clean cut, classically handsome features, dark hair and blue eyes. The other male was shorter, by about five inches, his hair was graying with age and his eyes were a warm brown.

"How far are we on analyzing the latest sample of Joker venom, Alfred?" The taller of the two asked, long powerful strides carried him towards the supercomputer that dominated the room.

"Nearly complete sir," Alfred answered, adjusting the spectacles on his nose as he followed. "The computer should be finished analyzing within the hour."

Bruce Wayne came to an abrupt halt in front of the computer, his eyes flicking between the various screens. Each processed a different task, all _very_ important. Without this specific piece of technology, Batman's already highly challenging mission would be literally impossible.

"Let me know the second the results are through. We have no time to waste." Criminals like the Joker didn't give them even a millisecond to catch their breath. In Gotham, time was never on the side of the Batclan. "Alert the others. Everybody needs to be ready for this and mobilized at a moment's notice. And I mean _everyone_. The Joker is too large a threat to take risks. We'll need all the help we can get."

"Of course, sir." The slight hesitation in Alfred's reply was vaguely suspicious. Maybe it was nothing but now the doubt was in his mind it wouldn't leave. Living in Gotham for so long, in his dual role as both Bruce Wayne and Batman, had taught him to trust his gut feelings.

His mind began to whir with possibilities. Alfred was normally so quick and certain in his responses, especially a request as simple as this, so what reason could he have for hesitation? Most, if not all, of the Batclan should be working on this new development anyway. They all knew the damage someone as unstable as the Joker could cause, some better than others. His brow furrowed at that, knowing that those people he considered family had been targeted. Taking this into account, every single last one of them should be eager and in the position to act against the deranged criminal mastermind. Unless… somebody was taking matters into their own hands, galavanting off on their own mission.

Granted, things had been quiet lately. So maybe one of them had seen fit to follow their own leads. Now they had a crucial mission to undertake, personal side quests would have to take a back seat. No matter what. The question was, who? Taking a quick stock check of his fellow crime fighters' positions should do the trick here. It would be easy enough to do after all. Without further hesitation, he began typing away at the keyboard in front of him, one of the screens changing to show a detailed map of Gotham. He could already see the positions of a few of his fellows at a quick glance. The rest he managed to locate with some more in-depth searching, all except one… Max. He widened his search to the area surrounding Gotham city including Metropolis, still getting nothing.

"Alfred…" Bruce's voice retained a calmness to it, almost sounding eerie.

"Yes, Master Bruce." The elderly butler replied, a feeling of unease passing over him.

The world's greatest detective turned on his heel, towering over his most trusted ally. His expression turned stoic, eyes steely and demanding. "Where is she?"

"Who sir?" Alfred asked although he knew exactly who Bruce meant. As much as he wanted to aid Max in her search, he couldn't lie for her even if he wanted to. Whatever excuse he gave would immediately be seen through.

This evasion only increased his suspicions. " _Alfred."_ the growl came from deep in his throat, the computer zooming out to encompass the entire Northwest. Going this far from Gotham was dangerous for all of them and hardly ever called for. In fact, it was highly discouraged as a rule.

Alfred cleared his throat before responding. "If you are referring to Miss Caulfield, she is no longer within the boundaries of Gotham city."

The cryptic answers were really starting to wear thin on his patience. "I can see that, Alfred. I want to know is where she _is_ , not where she isn't. You know I'll find her, with or without your help. Stalling won't help anyone. For both our sakes, I recommend telling me if you know."

Unable to stall for time any longer, Alfred let out a soft sigh. "Very well. I shall forward the last known location I have for her. Do with it as you will." Once the information had been transferred, he straightened the collar of his shirt. "If that is all you wish of me I will take my leave."

As Alfred left, Bruce examined the new information he had received on Max's location. He hadn't enjoyed pressuring his friend like that but it had been necessary. Pushing this out of his mind for now, he focused back on the data. According to the now updated map, Max was all the way over in Oregon for some reason, about as far as you could get from Gotham. It took a moment for the pieces to fall into place. When they did, Bruce's expression darkened.

This had something to do with her parents.

* * *

 **Have an amazing day, take care and see you next time.**


	4. Digging Deeper

**Hey guys, a warm welcome back to the story. I know it's been a while… sorry bout that. Anyway, enjoy this latest chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Digging Deeper**

 _Darkness with flickering sunbeams, a soft lilting purr in her ears as her body felt like lead weighing her down "Destroy them my dear." and she was moving obeying her goddess, weaving effortlessly through the artificial jungle with the grace her mentor had taught her. Her hand drifted down to her belt and grasped one of her bat-a-rangs as it sparked with electricity. Her eyes zeroed in on the pointed cowl and she launched herself into the air-_

 _And suddenly she was driving both feet into a half burned torso, rolling off of the former politician even as his men turned on her with their weapons at the ready. Batman was already there, descending from the ceiling like a ghoulish phantom. She darted down, sweeping her legs underneath more of Two Face's men before vaulting over the third-_

 _And right into a gaping jagged maw of Killer Croc. She panicked and shoved an emp blast into his throat as she propelled herself over his head. With a grimace she took off, knowing that such a weak charge would not keep Croc down for long._

"It's alright to be afraid."

 _She growled and sprinted faster shaking her head and pushing out the door flinched as the winter wind whipped harshly at her skin. She leaped, her cape stiffening into its glider form and -_

Her eyes snapped open, taking in the afternoon light of the hotel room. She scanned the area, half expecting one of the nightmarish image to be standing right there at the foot of her bed. Fear gripped at her heart and mind long after the memories had faded. A cold sweat had formed on her brow and her heart was racing. She lifted her hands off the mattress and moved them in front of her face, observing as they shook slightly. It was subtle, yet very noticeable to her. To stop this she clenched her fists tight, so tight that it actually started to hurt after a while. She could not under any circumstances show fear. Feeling it was unavoidable, but letting other people know, especially her enemies, was not an option.

When she felt calm enough again, she unclenched her hands and let them rest by her sides. The shaking had gone but not the distorted images and voices. Considering what she had been through over the years, it was understandable that something like this might happen every once in awhile. Still, it had been much more powerful than expected.

With a sigh, she pushed the last of the memories from her mind and began her daily routine. She'd long ago stopped calling it her morning routine once her sleep schedules began to go crazy. She slid out of her old clothes to shower and prepare for what remained of the day. She'd promised Chloe she would turn up today and she expected another long night ahead.

* * *

 **Junkyard Hideout**

The Junkyard was a surprisingly tranquil area of Arcadia Bay despite the railway track that ran parallel, secluded and overtaken by nature. A strange blend of organic and artificial. That was part of the appeal for people like Chloe and Rachel, to hide away from all the assholes they encountered on a daily basis. For such a small town, Arcadia had a disproportionate amount of those, all concentrated at Blackwell. Thanks to David, Chloe's home was a war zone just waiting to happen, so the only place left to them was here. Over the years, they had personalized the unassuming gray brick building with makeshift furniture, graffiti, and random trinkets.

"So, are you actually gonna show me what you're working on?" Chloe asked for the fifth time since coming to their junkyard hideout.

"Nope, it's not finished yet. Just a few more touch ups..." Rachel repeated as she briefly inspected her work. She paused momentarily to grab another pencil from the limited selection spread out on the 'table'. Carefully, she began to lightly shade the areas she'd penciled out earlier.

Chloe rolled her eyes and sighed melodramatically, clearly bored of waiting... not that this was anything new. "You're such a perfectionist."

Rachel didn't even bother looking up, too engrossed in her drawing to stop now. The sooner she finished, the sooner Chloe would quit whining. "And you're impatient. You can't rush a masterpiece."

A few moments and three repeated questions later, Rachel lifted the pencil tip off her drawing pad. This small project had been particularly tricky given that it was drawn from memory and an incomplete and hazy one at that. Still, she was satisfied with what she had produced.

"Are you _finally_ done now?" Chloe insisted like she'd done every time that Rachel had hesitated.

"You know," Rachel mused, sitting back. "I think I am."

It was a recreation of the scene she'd witnessed the night before, of grace and brutality and speed. The alleyway was appropriately shadowed, with lighter shades representing streetlights at either end and a soft white glow of the moon hanging overhead. However, the scenery wasn't that important, what was important was the people occupying it. Well, one person in particular out of the four included. The scene depicted her attackers as figures half-cloaked in darkness, adding to their menace and threatening appearance. A twisted smile was prevalent on the rightmost of the two, aka Nathan Prescott, mirroring his expression from that night. Or at least how she could remember it. Almost like he'd been possessed. Whether accurate or not, it was an image Rachel wouldn't forget in a hurry.

The real star of the portrait wasn't the attackers, or even Rachel herself. The star was the shadowy silhouette descending on the group, the most striking feature being the purple visor that concealed their features as they dove into the scene, their cape spread like wings behind them. The suit was lightly armored, the plates connecting at various points and covering everything that could be identifiable, aside from the stylized insignia present on her chest. A slightly warped presentation of bird wings that ended just at her shoulders.

"So, what's the verdict?" the aspiring model asked, curious to see how her friend would answer. She was actually pretty proud of this drawing. Ideally, she would have liked to have had more details to go on, but overall the result was better than she had imagined.

Chloe looked at the drawing, shaking her head incredulously. "Dude, do you have like a photographic memory or something? This is insane."

Taking that as a compliment, Rachel allowed herself a smile. "I wish. A lot of it is just an educated guess, to be honest. Drawing inspiration from all those superheroes running around."

"I don't think you'll be running out of muses there anytime soon," the bluenette stated as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall.

The fact that even one superhero had deemed Arcadia Bay dangerous enough to investigate was concerning. Most, if not all of the time, they appeared to act on solid leads and evidence. "I never expected to see any in Arcadia, not that I'm complaining. Still, it's worrying."

"How so?"

"Why would someone come here of all places? Surely, there's enough crime to fight elsewhere. Arcadia is hardly a place where master criminals hang out on a daily basis." While Arcadia did have its fair share of jerks and scumbags, it was hardly comparable to a vast metropolis like Gotham for instance. In fact, Rachel doubted that the crimes in Arcadia would even amount to 5% of those in Gotham alone.

"Unless you believe the rumors about the Prescotts, which for the record I totally do. Bunch of rich bastards," Chloe muttered under her breath. If you believed all the rumors surrounding the Prescott family, which seemed to be infinite, they were involved in some pretty shady deals.

"I hate to break it to you, but I don't think they could pull off a huge scheme… on their own, anyway." The Prescotts were big fish in a small pond. Sure, they were dangerous in their own way but compared to other criminals out there they didn't pose a significant threat. They had money and influence, but nowhere near as much as Gotham's mobsters for example.

"Maybe they aren't alone." That suggestion wasn't impossible, highly unlikely, but not impossible by any stretch of the imagination. What any big time criminal would gain from allying with an insignificant family who exerted power over such a small sphere of interest was the question. The Prescotts would definitely be punching above their weight.

Rachel simply shrugged at that. "Maybe not. That might explain the sudden interest in Arcadia. I highly doubt anybody would come here to investigate otherwise."

"Oh, so _now_ Arcadia decides to get interesting." For years, Arcadia had been nothing more than a place Chloe wanted to escape from at all costs. Nothing happened there, other than the odd fishing crisis that nobody even cared about other than the fishermen trying to make a living.

"The League handles big things, Chloe, you know that. And there simply aren't enough of them to cover every bit of the country." While the exact number of superheroes was unknown, logically there weren't enough to fight against every single crime committed, big or small. All they could hope to do was prevent the worst.

That answer didn't seem to satisfy the blue haired punk much. "Maybe someone can finally do something about the damn near monopoly the Prescotts have on this town."

"We can only hope," Rachel wasn't overly optimistic about that. With all the other problems to deal with, the Prescotts would be very low on the list. Unless they really were involved in something much larger than themselves, they would most likely escape justice. The ABPD sure as hell weren't doing anything to stop them since they were most definitely being paid into silence. "Besides, I wouldn't mind seeing a few of these superheroes up close and personal more often. Preferably when I'm not in life-threatening danger."

"Good luck with that. That's the only time they _do_ come. I imagine personal visits are low on the priorities list. Or they should be, anyway." At the end of the day, superheroes were still people as much as they tried to distance themselves from that fact. They had their own private shit to deal with and that was often bypassed because of their duty to protect. It wasn't a nine til five job. Crime didn't sleep.

"Maybe I should get in trouble more often then," Rachel mentioned half-jokingly.

Chloe couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. Sometimes, it was very hard to tell. "Please tell me you're kidding."

Rachel glanced back down at the drawing, focusing only on her savior. The rest was completely irrelevant to her. She wanted to know more and planned to do some research into it later. Someone out there had to know something. While the public didn't know much about superheroes, such prolific individuals didn't go unnoticed. Some dedicated their lives to collecting as much information as possible on their role models. "Mostly. Like I said, I wouldn't mind seeing superheroes around more, especially our mysterious friend from the other night."

Unlike her friend, Chloe wasn't as fascinated. "If I catch you sticking newspaper articles on your walls like a total fangirl, I'm intervening. Just saying."

"Even you have to admit that you're curious. How could you not be?" There was so much about superheroes to captivate your imagination. People idolized them, worshiped them to a degree. It was almost impossible not to. They were symbols of everything the average person strived to be.

"Yeah, just not in the creepy stalker/cult way," Chloe countered with a slight smirk.

Rachel narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "That sounds a bit like an accusation directed at me there."

"All I'm saying is that you do have a tendency to get carried away," in response to that, Rachel grabbed a tattered pillow from beside her and lobbed it at Chloe's head. Not expecting the attack, it hit her straight in the face. "Nice, real mature…" In a last ditch attempt to get payback, she threw it back but missed. With her failure, she voted to stick her tongue out and flip Rachel off.

Rachel just chuckled at her childish behavior. Their arguments usually ended this way. Now that relative peace had been restored, she once again looked down at the drawing. One way or another, she _would_ discover more.

Suddenly, Chloe stood up and stretched her arms above her head. "Guess we should head back now."

"Well, you're my ride so I have to follow your whims," Rachel replied as she packed her things up, carefully to take her sketchpad along. She knew why Chloe was eager to get home for once. All because of one person who may make a visit. They made their way back to the truck and headed back to the Price family house. The journey back was much quieter, both women having plenty to think about.

As they pulled into the parking space in front and got out of the truck, an interesting sight caught their eye. Someone was propped up against the side of the house, not moving an inch. The bike nearby tipped them off as to who it could be. They exchanged amused glances before approaching the figure clad in bike leathers.

"Aw, how cute." Rachel grinned as she watched Max. Her eyes were closed and she was snoring very lightly.

"Don't let her hear you say that. Something tells me she might kick your ass." After their first encounter, Chloe was almost certain of that. Max was no longer the shy girl of her youth and she seemed to know how to handle herself.

That didn't seem to deter Rachel. If anything it encouraged her. "I'm just saying what we're all thinking. What _you're_ thinking and don't you dare try to deny it."

"You think what you like," Chloe sighed, not prepared to get into this now… or ever. "More importantly, how are we going to wake her up? I don't want to startle her and get the shit kicked out of me. No thanks."

"Is there a long stick we can poke her with?" Rachel suggested teasingly.

As much as Chloe should have probably been expecting an answer like that, it still disappointed her. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

"You're not exactly providing a better alternative," Rachel pointed out, waiting to hear something better.

"You don't need an alternative." Both women looked back to see Max's eyes now open. She looked surprisingly alert for only just waking up.

"Shit, when did you wake up?" Chloe asked, a bit worried about how much of their conversation she had heard.

Max pushed herself off the wall, rolling her shoulders to work out the kinks. Sleeping against a wall hadn't been her best idea in a while, "A few seconds ago. It's not like you were being particularly quiet." That and being a light sleeper came with the territory.

"Being quiet isn't really a skill of ours." Rachel had just stated the obvious. In fact, she and Chloe were the total opposite of quiet in every way.

The young superhero allowed herself a smile. "So I've noticed."

"I'm kind of surprised you came," Chloe admitted, sounding relieved.

"I said I'd try and I did." Max hadn't wanted to let Chloe down if she could help it. There was so little left of her old life worth salvaging and holding onto. Chloe Price was one of them.

Chloe's expression softened, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. Truth be told, she had half expected Max to not show. "Yeah, I guess you did."

Eager to hurry along to the reason for her visit, Max motioned towards the house with her head. Outside was not the best venue for that. "Let's not waste time. I don't seem to have much of it these days."

* * *

 **Just as a side note, Tyler and I have an RWBY fic in the works so keep an eye out for that. Have an awesome day and see you next time.**


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